Three Days
by cosmickym925
Summary: "Am I dead?" "Not yet. Welcome to Purgatory: The stop in between aka the place where the big guy decides what to do with you aka hey look at all this white space hashtag purgy." "Wait, what?"


**Disclaimer: I dont own Glee or any of the characters and yada yada yada. Dont sue me 'kay? **

**Samcedes wont let me go y'all. Still writing fics and havent watched the show in two going on three years. *sigh* ENJOY! **

* * *

The vase whizzed across the room and smashed against the corner wall, shattering into small pieces before scattering onto the floor.

"Have you lost your mind?" Mercedes asked, glaring at her husband.

"I dunno Cedes, maybe I have. Then again you wouldn't know if I had, you're never here!" Sam shot back, his eyes wide with anger.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "That's not fair and you know it! The album-"

"If I hear about the album one more time," he grumbled.

"You gonna break another vase?" she shot back.

They fought like this often, back and forth for hours on end until one of them was out of energy and too tired to keep going and finally gave up. It always started off with a comment and escalated into this heated argument that moved it's way around the apartment before finally, ending in the living room.

"What do you want from me Cedes?" Sam asked, running a hand through his hair and tugging at the roots.

"Support."

He moved around the couch and placed his hands down, holding onto the fabric for dear life. "All I ever do is support you. I gave up everything to support you!"

"I never asked you to give up everything for me," she said, tears brimming her eyes.

"You didnt have to!"

He stared at their wedding picture and wished he could smack the grin off of the groom's face. He wished he could go back in time and tell that guy to wait, that rushing into marriage was only going to spell catastrophe for both him and his future wife. But at the time, it never felt rushed. He'd known Mercedes since high school, 8 years to be exact and he'd loved her for 7 of those years. He'd loved only one woman his entire adult life and now it was turning around and biting him in the ass.

"Well I'm sorry you resent me for going after my dreams."

"Would you stop being so dramatic?!" he shouted. "You're making a life decision here without involving me and you just want me to be okay with it."

"I didnt say that. But I want you to realize this is a career move and could be beneficial for us both. You can write music anywhere Sam."

"And you can sing anywhere. So let's move back to Lima if we're making a move."

"You and I both know I cant sing in Lima. I could barely do that in high school."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh right, I'm mistaken. I'm the one in this marriage that has to make sacrifices."

"You know that's not true and lower your voice," she ordered.

Sam scoffed. "Right because the kids'll hear me?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He wanted to take them back so fast. Sure, he was pissed but he never stooped to that level. That level was a new low that he knew hurt them both equally. He shook his head, ready to apologize but Mercedes cut him off, tears falling from her eyes.

"You know, you've said a lot of horrible things to me but that might have been the worst." She turned her back to him and tried not to cry as she walked over to the corner of the room to pick up the shattered pieces of the vase.

"Cedes..." he started.

"You need to go Sam," she muttered, tossing a glance his way. "You need to leave and think about what you want because I cant do this anymore. I cant apologize for wanting to sing and I cant apologize for your choice to follow me out here."

He stood there for a moment before licking his lips and reaching for his keys, storming out of their house. He felt the brisk weather hit him and he frowned when he realized he'd left his coat.

God he hated Los Angeles.

Hot in the day and freezing cold at night.

He'd never wanted to live out here but he did it for her. So many sacrifices he'd made for her dreams while his were steady dying. Sam stalked across the large yard to his truck and got in, gripping the steering wheel tightly before tearing out of the driveway and speeding down the street. He looked at himself in the mirror and winced, seeing his face. He looked tired, his usually light green eyes were dark with anger. He rubbed at them as he approached a red light and felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. It was a text message, most likely from one of his friends or his parents. He thought for a split second it would be Mercedes but his suspicions were put to rest when he saw the familiar number.

**Friday night and nothing to do... wanna come hang out? - Lacy**

Sam held the phone, squeezing it as he stared at the text.

This text message spelled trouble. Sam was a faithful man. He'd never cheated on his wife. Not physically anyways. Emotionally on the other hand...

It wasn't that he'd gone out and meant to find someone else, he wasn't even looking. But one day at the bar, he'd struck up a conversation with Lacy, the bartender, and she'd listened. It was something Mercedes hadnt had time to do in months. Either she was too busy in the studio or jetting off to do press for her album release, he didnt fit into her schedule.

But with Lacy it was like she had endless amount of time, ready to listen to his crazy stories about writing music for some of the most pompous people in the business. In the back of his mind, he knew it was wrong. No, he wasn't having sex with her but he was doing something just as bad. He was being intimate with her, sharing his hopes and dreams and fears with her. Something he should only be doing with his wife.

Sam stared down at his ring finger, sighing at the simple gold band before tugging it off and tossing it into his back seat. She wanted him to think and he had done just that.

He'd decided he couldn't do it anymore. He was done. Nearly a decade with the woman he loved, down the drain because they were both too stubborn.

He sped ahead, glancing down at his phone to send a quick response back to Lacy.

**Sure. Be there soo-**

He never got to type in the last letter as a speeding semi came barreling towards him, smashing into his side of the car and crushing him instantly.

* * *

Light.

It was the first thing he saw. A blinding white light that made him squint hard enough that his eyes were nearly shut. He knew he was dead and he knew this couldn't possibly be heaven.

"Wake up!"

He felt a smack to the back of his head and wailed out in pain. "What the fu-"

"Oh yay, you're awake."

Sam stood up from his spot on the ground and looked around. He saw nothing but blank walls around him and some person who hit him a little too hard. He turned to look at her and gasped. "Santana?"

"No I'm Castiel, of course it's me dummy. Get up," she ordered, extending a hand.

Sam stared at her, his mouth hanging open. "I haven't seen you since... High school. Are you dead too?" he asked, taking her hand and standing on his feet.

She chuckled, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "God I hope not. And you arent either."

Sam furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and stared at her. "I'm not?"

"Nope," she shook her head. "Not yet."

"Not yet? So I'm in a coma? Or maybe... I'm dreaming?"

Santana rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Maybe if you stop asking damn questions, I can tell you what's going on." He nodded and kept his mouth shut as she dropped her arms and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to Purgatory-"

"What?!"

"Let me finish!" she shouted before taking a deep breath. "Welcome to Purgatory, the stop in between aka the place where the big guy decides what to do with you aka hey look at all this white space hashtag purgy."

Sam waited until he was sure she'd finished before lifting his hand to speak. "Can I talk now?"

"Sure," she nodded.

"Why are you here?"

She shrugged, lifting up her white dress slightly so that she could walk ahead. "I dunno. I might have sold my soul when I was a kid and now I do this occasionally. Nice gig, huh?"

Sam shrugged and followed behind her as she walked ahead. "Why am I here?"

"To make things right," she spoke over her shoulder. "I'd say we should catch up but I got the gist of what's been going on. I might need a refresher though."

Santana waved her hand and the wall closest to them replayed the last argument he and Mercedes had ever had. The more he watched, the more Sam felt like the worst person in the world.

Santana played it over again, and again, until Sam couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay!" he shouted, covering his head. "I get it! I'm a dick and I dont deserve Mercedes." Santana stopped in her tracks and glared at him, ready to smack him again. "No, you dont get it. She's made sacrifices too. Not just you," she said. "Oh and nice touch with that whole "the kids'll hear me" thing by the way. As if she needs a reminder that she cant get pregnant."

"I was upset."

"You were a dick."

Sam ran a hand over his face and sighed. "I know okay... I get it. Just... Get this over with and send me to hell."

"You're an idiot," Santana shook her head.. "Your wife gave a shit about you."

"I know." His throat was sticky as he swallowed and met Santana's glare. "I know, alright. And I hurt her. I kept hurting her. If I could go back and change anything I would..."

A devilish grin appeared on Santana's face as she wiggled her fingers. "What a coincidence."

He frowned in confusion. "What?"

"Sam, do you still love Mercedes?" Santana asked.

"Of course... But-"

"No buts," she wagged her finger. "Yes or no, do you still love her?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to save your marriage?"

"Are you going to give us coupons to couples therapy?" he quipped.

Santana sighed, rolling her eyes. "Okay Trouty, here's the deal. Someone upstairs, gives a shit about you for some odd reason and they're going to let you go back to your life so you can make things right."

A small smile crept up on Sam's face. "Really?"

"But there's something you have to do before that can happen." She waved her hand and one of the blank walls began to move as if they were walking down a hallway.

"Wait... Is that?" Sam squinted, recognizing their surroundings.

"Yup," she nodded. "William McKinley High School circa 2011."

Sam shrugged, still confused. "Okay... "

"You have three days to get her to fall in love with you again," Santana pointed to the wall.

"Her?" he frowned.

"Your wife you idiot," she shouted. "When you two were 16."

Sam froze. "Wait, what? Are you joking?"

Santana shook her head. "God does have a wicked sense of humor but no, I'm afraid this time it's not a joke."

"I cant get anyone to fall in love with me in three days," he said incredulously.

"Sure you can," Santana said, patting his back. "Because back then, she fell in love with you in just one. And you weren't even trying."

Sam looked between the past and Santana, worried. "And if I dont get her to fall in love with me?"

"Oh, nothing big, You just die and go to hell. Happy travels." She shoved him forward towards the wall and he fell. Fell longer than he thought was necessary but he just kept falling and falling until his voice morphed from an echo to monotone. When Sam finally opened his eyes, he was on the ground, looking up at the ceiling of his old high school, students staring down at him.

"Is there a reason why you're lying in the middle of my hallway screaming?" Coach Sylvester asked, glaring at him.

"Uh... Vocal exercises?" Sam shrugged.

"That glee club and their incessant practicing. Try not to do it in my hallway," she said blankly before turning to walk away.

Sam stood up and dusted himself off and ran a hand through his hair. He looked around the hallway, wondering where Mercedes had gone until he spotted her, leaning against her locker. She hadnt changed much in the years since they'd been married. She had the same face and the same smile but she'd blossomed into a woman almost as soon as she'd graduated.

Three days. He had three days to get her to fall in love with him again. No big deal. He'd done it before, he can do it again. You can do this Evans, he thought. This will be as easy as-

"Sam!"

He spun around in time to catch the bouncing blonde as she threw herself into his arms and kissed him fully on the lips. He stared at her with wide eyes and dropped her back to her feet.

"Uh..."

"Walk me to class?" she asked, her ponytail swinging back and forth as she looped her arm with his. He hadnt seen her in at least five years and yet here she was, kissing him. He could have sworn they'd broken up by now.

Unless.

It suddenly occurred to Sam just what time in 2011 Santana had sent him back to. She hadnt sent him back to when he was 16, single and homeless, she'd sent him back to when he was 16, popular and very much already had a girlfriend.

"Sam?" she snapped her fingers, trying to get his attention. "Walk me to class."

"Huh?" he said, gulping. "Um... Quinn?"

"Yeah?" she shrugged, looking a bit annoyed.

"Can you give me a minute?" he asked.

Before she could say yes or no, he'd let go of her hand and turned back around to find Mercedes, only to see that she was gone.

"Come on. We're gonna be late," she ordered, taking his hand and practically pulling him down the hallway.

This was going to be so much harder than he'd originally thought.

* * *

**A/N: I dont even know what this is to be honest. Okay so it's been sitting in my documents for god knows how long (I think the S3 finale) and I went to read it and I was like oh this is good. And here's the kicker! It's only 5 chapters long! And they're already written! So this is a happy distraction from AIL. Not that I need distracting, that story is my golden child but sometimes you've gotta take a break and write something else. And this was it. Sam's kinda a douche right? Yeah. I try to keep all characters in character as much as possible but my Sam is always gonna have an edge to him that show Sam doesnt. I dont know why. So yeah, let me know. Do you guys want the other four chapters or no? Make sure you review! **


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